


Ketch and Release

by justcallmeasmodeus



Series: Ketch and Release [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Series, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 23:15:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15918228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: Ketch is merciless, a company man, a killing machine. Y/N is reckless, throwing caution to the wind and living life in sixth gear. Can he reign her in and keep her safe? Can she show him the beauty in emotion?





	Ketch and Release

“Reckless?” Y/N scoffed over her whiskey as she looked between the two Winchesters, riding out a post hunt high in the local dive bar. “You only get one word to describe me and you pick _reckless_?”

“I’m siding with Dean on this one.” Sam replied with a half apologetic shrug. “You’re reckless.”

“I’m not reckless!” She protested, draining what was left of her drink. “I’m gutsy. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” Dean asked as he swirled his own Jack around. 

“Either way, I’m an excellent hunter, and that’s all that matters.” 

Y/N glanced around the bar, bored with the conversation and needing to find some fun to burn off her excess hunting energy. She noticed the waitress pouring a high end scotch, and she followed the glass to a well dressed man hiding in the shadows. Y/N stood up, both Winchesters following her with their eyes.

“Where are you heading?”

“I’m going to go be reckless with someone who will appreciate it.” She winked as she slid out of the booth and made her way to the shadows, ignoring the feeling of Dean’s eyes on her back.

Y/N’s target watched as she made her way across the bar, his gaze causing the blood to buzz in her veins. Her confidence was fueled with whiskey and adrenaline, and there was no way she was leaving without him. She slid in the other side of the half-moon booth like an old friend, flashing him a smile and leaning forward. There was something in his eyes that captivated her, a knowing spark, as if he had a thousand secrets begging to be let out. He returned her smile, taking a sip from his scotch before returning it to the table.

Amusement danced in his eyes as he watched her over his drink, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. He sipped lightly on his scotch, letting it seep into his system, just enough to take the harsh edge off of his day. She hesitated a moment, and he noted the small details that he could see up close; her eyes were brilliant and intelligent, her hair wild. Whiskey had loosened her mood, but she would still be ready to strike at a moment’s notice. She was off limits, she was untamed, and he wanted her.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Y/N purred, noting the stark contrast of his sport coat and immaculate pressed white shirt to the sea of band t-shirts, flannel, and ripped denim.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His voice was smooth, his English accent thick. He was entertained by the way her tongue snuck out from between her teeth and drug in her bottom lip. It slid out slowly as they scrutinized one another.

“Well, why don’t you buy me a drink and we can talk about it?” An amused look crossed his face as she watched the wheels turning in his mind.

“Alright. What would you like?”

“You.” 

Y/N reached forward and took a long drink from his glass, savoring the smooth burn of his scotch. She slid further into the booth until she was pressed against his side, tucked under the arm he had thrown over the back of the booth. She placed a hand on his thigh and leaned in until her lips nearly grazed his ear. “What do you say we get a bottle to go and we head back to your place?”

He ever so slightly raised his eyebrow in her direction, trying to hide a twitch of his lips by finishing off his scotch.

“Not very subtle, are we?” His hand fell to her knee and slowly slid upward as he turned his face toward her.

“What can I say? I know what I want and I’m not afraid to take it.” 

Her lips brushed against his and his hand came up to settle on her cheek, gently controlling the angle of their kiss as he pressed his lips to hers, chasing the rush of the taste of her lips mixed with the scotch from his glass. Y/N’s head began to spin from a mixture of adrenaline and alcohol, and when he finally pulled away there was a soft smile on his face.

“I can admire that.” 

He laid a twenty on the table and took her hand, leading her out the door. She turned and gave Sam and Dean a wink on her way out, blatantly ignoring the way Dean scowled into his whiskey. She followed him out into the parking lot, her heart thudding as lightning flashed in the distance. She held her breath and waited for the thunder, the sounds of their footsteps on the pavement getting louder the further away from the hustle of the bar they got. 

He pressed her against the side of a jet black bentley in the back corner lot, his thumbs digging into her hips as he pulled her lower body against his, grinding against her. Thunder rumbled through the sky as he pressed his lips to hers. She inhaled sharply, her hands settling on his shoulders and her fingers twisting in the collar of his jacket. The metal of the car felt cool against her exposed flush skin, serving as a focus point for her spinning mind.

Rain began to drip from the sky, a wayward  _ thwap _ that broke them apart.

“We should get going.” She panted, coaxing a grin to his face.

“Right.” He opened her door and helped her inside, barely making it inside himself before the storm cut loose.

The car purred to life, almost silent compared to Baby’s roar. Frank Sinatra floated through the speakers, catching her off guard. She tilted her head to the side, letting the soothing melody calm her racing mind.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, cutting through her thoughts as he drove away from the bar.

“No, I just didn’t peg you for a Sinatra fan.” She smiled and turned towards him, letting her hand fall on his leg.

“When it’s good, it’s good.” He shrugged, another grin pulling at the edge of his lips.

“This,” she ran her hand upwards, palming him through his slacks as she leaned over the center console, “is very good.”

He hummed in agreement as her lips brushed over his neck. His hand wrung the leather on the steering wheel, his foot coaxing the car faster into the storm as she stroked him in time with the wiper blades. She pulled his earlobe between her teeth, causing him to inhale sharply. He let his right hand drop from the steering wheel to her thigh, and she couldn’t keep from gasping as he slowly moved up.

He deftly unclasped the button of her shorts without so much as swerving the car, instead seemingly hyper focused on the road rather than what he was doing with his hand. He slipped in between her shorts and her panties, his fingers easily finding the spot he was looking for, pressing just hard enough to send small waves of pleasure throughout her body, but not enough to get her higher. Y/N whimpered, her hips chasing his fingertips, trying to find the friction she needed. He grinned, pulling his hand away as he turned the car into the hotel drive.

Y/N quickly rebuttoned her pants as he pulled into valet, where a lone employee was awaiting their return for the night. He opened her door and helped her out, and she leaned against the car while taking in the view of the hotel. It was picture perfect, from the large columns to the slate siding, a far cry from the dilapidated motels she was used to. She turned her head to look at the man she picked up, drinking him in under the bright lights of the hotel drive. His suit was flawless, hugging his broad shoulders and chest, tailored perfectly to his body shape. He turned towards her, and her breath caught at the sight of his chiseled features. A small smile crept across his face as he watched her taking him in, and he let his eyes travel up and down her body as he made his way to her side.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to his side after tossing his keys to the valet. He pressed his lips to hers in another kiss, his hand traveling down to her hip and easily guiding her up to his suite. When the door was shut and locked once more, he pushed her up against the wall, his calm demeanor gone and his dark eyes shining with lust. 

Y/N fumbled with his sport coat as his lips found their place at her pulse, sucking and nipping until her soft moans filled the room. She felt him grin against her neck as her fingers began to fumble at his tie. He ran his hands gently up the sides of her body, coaxing goosebumps to her skin and a shiver down her spine. He stopped at her wrists, grabbing them and pinning her arms to the wall. He held her wrists with one hand, the other swiftly undressing her.

Her legs found their place on his hips as his hand made its way down her abdomen. His fingers worked her clit in a circle, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as her hips bucked up, trying to find more. He pulled his hand away and stepped back suddenly, causing her to whine and stumble as she suddenly found herself standing on shaky legs.

“What’s your name?” His voice was thick as he removed his tie, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Does it matter?” She leaned back against the wall as the last of the alcohol slammed into her system, intensifying the tingle that was already dancing on her skin. Confidence radiated off her skin as she locked eyes with him and ran a hand down her abdomen, her eyes daring him to keep going.

“Not really.”

He picked her up, one hand going behind her knees as they buckled, and carried her over to the bed. The comforter billowed around her when he threw her down, her skin burning as his eyes travelled over her body while he undressed. Y/N blushed under his hungry gaze, her stomach fluttering with anticipation as he crawled, trailing random kisses up her body until he reached her neck. Her hands carded through his hair, pulling a groan from his chest as he braced himself on one hand next to her head, letting the other trail feather light across her skin.

He grabbed the back of her leg, hauling it up over his hips as they pistoned forward. She gasped, her hands sliding from his hair to his back and then downward, her nails leaving red welts down his back and drawing a hiss from his lips. He set a frantic pace, spurred on by her moans, kissing away anything louder. He memorized the way her face looked, head thrown back and eyes closed in ecstasy, through the split second flashes gifted to him by the lightning. 

 

There was no pillow talk afterwards, but window-rattling rumbles of thunder pushed her into his arms nonetheless, while the rain lulled her to sleep. He laid awake staring at her in his arms, marveling at how wild she looked even in sleep, with her hair fanned out behind her and makeup smudged against her face. He knew that he would catch hell for this later; becoming involved with a mission was against more than one rule, and breaking it had dire consequences, but as he watched her sleeping he had a feeling that it would be worth it. In the morning he could surely convince himself that this had been a tactic move, a way to weasel into their operation, to convince the American hunters of their incompetent strategies and enlighten them to their biggest faults, but in that moment the dark was whispering other things in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes against the voice and allowed himself to drift into a light slumber, his subconscious replaying the last few hours over in his mind.  

He woke when the bed shifted beside him, but he didn’t move. Hearing her shuffling, and he risked cracking his eye to peak at the time. 4:24 glared back at him through the dark. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to. He sat up as he heard the room door shut and lock, reaching for the bedside table light and taking a quick survey of the room. 

 

Her clothes were gone, his were still strewn across the floor. He stepped out of bed and picked them up out of habit, folding them across the arm of the chair on his way to the bathroom. He flicked on the lights, stepping in front of the sink to splash some water on his face. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, gearing up to scold himself for a lapse in judgement. He knew a few more hours of sleep would help set him straight again, and he mourned the loss of the sweet scent her hair gave off as it scattered across the pillow. He longed for just a bit more of the sweet nothingness of sleep he got with her next to him. Shaking to clear his head, Ketch looked away from his own tired gaze, and that's  when he noticed it in the corner. His lips ticked up in the ghost of a smile as he leaned forward, inspecting it closer. A lipstick imprint and a one word eyeliner note: _Annie_. 


End file.
